Angzang seven-foot net

(While undressing herself she begins to sing.)

There was a king in Thule, True even to the grave; To whom his dying

At every feast he drained it, Naught was to him so dear, And often as he

drained it, Gush'd from his eyes the tear.

When death came, unrepining His cities o'er he told; All to his heir resigning,

With many a knightly vassal At a royal feast sat he, In yon proud hall

ancestral, In his castle o'er the sea.

Up stood the jovial monarch, And quaff'd his last life's glow, Then hurled the